Cellmate
by bunny811
Summary: Max has been in isolation for her whole life. When the Institute decides that it's time for her to have a cellmate she finally has the chance to discover her true meaning, fall in love with this dark, mysterious boy, and maybe even escape to a better life. AU, FAX
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all! So I'm kind of excited for this story, it's loosely based on the beginning of Shatter Me - great book btw, you should read it ;)  
But yeah, let me know what you think of this! Reviews, even critics, are really appreciated xx Besides that, enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: James Patterson holds all rights to this story.**

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Chapter 1: Brumous

I stood on my tiptoes, craning my neck to see through the window. The window was really just a small hole in the cement wall, with a thick film of glass that my breath misted up.

Today the sky was grey and heavy; soft rain dripping seamlessly into the earth like a watercolour painting. Standing as tall as I could, which wasn't very high considering how I was 5'2, I had a tiny view of a waterlogged field and some barbed wire that I knew was the edge of the Institute grounds.

I sagged back to the stone floor and looked miserably around my cell. A moth-eaten mattress with a thread-bare blanket was the only thing I had for a bed. That, a chamber pot in the farthest corner, and a metal door with a slot that food could be pushed through, were the only other things besides me in this cold, dark room.

I knelt down next to the wall and picked up a rusted nail. I scratched a new small line into the cement, wincing at the noise as I did so, even though I'd been doing this for my whole life. I surveyed the wall before me. It was seven feet, and I was currently on my sixth row down of day-markings.

Instead of doing them as regular tallies with a new one after every five markings, I did them after seven so that I knew when a new week started. Mondays meant that I would be forced out of my cell and into the laboratory, and that I would be in complete control of the white-coats for twenty-four hours.

Today was Monday.

I looked at the steel door and barely contained the shivers that went through me. On Mondays I didn't get breakfast, as according to the white-coats food messed with their experiments, and so, today, when that door beeped and the button on top flashed red, it meant that I was to be escorted into my white, sterilised hell.

Even the prospect of seeing light and other people wasn't worth the pain that always came. I would choose solitary confinement any day, but, as usual, I wasn't offered the choice.

I crouched into a ball in the furthest corner from the door and tried not to let my whimpers take over me. I had given up fighting long ago. I used to kick and thrash around when they came for me, getting dragged feet first into the white halls, but the punishment that came after was also not worth the struggle.

 _*Beep beep beep_ *

I looked up from my knees as the door swung inwards. Dr Anne, a tall, stern woman who I liked to call Dr Ass, marched in, clipboard in hand. She peered down at me over her silver spectacles. "Come, #44627, I am to take you to the management office today."

I glared at her as hard as I could, but inside I was confused yet jumping for joy. I would not be going to the lab! A whole two weeks with no experimenting. I wondered what management might want with me. Fear froze me then. What if they'd finally had enough of me? They wouldn't release me – that was far too dangerous. What if they'd decided that I had no use to them anymore, and that the only option was to put me down?

I didn't have time to speculate anymore, as Ari, one of the violent patrol guards, appeared from behind the white-coat and grabbed my wrist hard, pulling me into a standing position. He shoved me towards the door and notched the barrel of his gun into my back. "Walk," he growled in his deep voice.

Helplessly I followed Dr Ass, the three of us clattering down the marble hall. It was almost hard to imagine that my grey, dusty cell was part of this pristine building, but I preferred the dust to this sickening sterile-smell. We passed other sound-proof, steel doors, and I wondered who the prisoners inside were.

I knew that there were hundreds of us here – I'd lain in laboratory stretches besides them, and in the halls passed many, many people – some horrible transformed and others completely broken inside. I wondered for a moment what people saw when they looked at me. A shrivelled, skinny 16 year-old with no strength whatsoever left? A girl, so deprived of humanity that she was hardly human?

A couple of turns and two staircases later Dr Ass stopped in front of a big glass door. She opened it for me and I stepped into a well-lit, very big office – probably five times the size of my cell. A dark-haired man with a pointy chin and piercing grey eyes looked me over from behind a desk. Papers littered the area and diplomas and paintings hung on the walls. Two ceiling-high windows made up the right wall, looking over a three-storey drop outside.

I had to tear my eyes away from the golden field and mountains that I'd never had a full view of before. "This is Maximum Ride, Dr Batchelder," said Dr Ass, then she and Ari exited the room.

I was left to be scrutinized by this 'Dr Batchelder', who continued to study me. He rubbed a hand over his cleanly shaven face. "So, this is the golden girl," he said in an articulate voice. "I've heard a lot about you, young Maximum. Your reports show that you respond well to almost all experiments and that you have a healthy body."

I stared at him, not sure what to make of this.

"I expect you are wondering why you are here, are you not?"

I didn't respond so he carried on. "We have decided to make some changes to your life here in the Institute. First of all, you will find that some adjustments have been made to your cell, though I assume that you will soon be able to figure out why."

He shuffled some papers on his desk. "Your dietary planning is also going to be altered slightly. You are aware of the three pills you receive with your two meals?"

"Yes," I said, my voice coming out hoarser than I imagined. It's amazing how when the only noises to come out of your mouth are screams and yells of pain and anger, you almost forget the feel of words on your tongue. "There is a red, a blue and a white one, and they are there to prevent infections," I said, quoting the white-coats.

He nodded at me. "More or less. Anyhow, one is going to be replaced, so don't be surprised. The last thing that is going to be changed is your laboratory hours, and their activities."

I held my breath. "You will now," he continued, "only have to go once a month." I could hardly believe my ears. This was a dream come true! I would have no people to abuse me, or force questions out of me, except for one small day out of every thirty. I would be completely alone and at peace in my cell, with no one but my thoughts and nothing to worry about but one small day. I barely kept in a squeal.

"Now," he said, "This is all due to the fact that we've decided you are to have a new purpose. We will now be observing how you react to some different situations, but in order to begin we must make sure that your blood pressure and other bodily functions are working normally."

There was something about the way he said it that made me doubt this 'new purpose', but when he handed over a pill to swallow and a strange container which he instructed me to urinate into, I went into the bathroom and did as he said.

When I was returning I noticed that the container was turning a light shade of pink. "Here," I said, and gave it back to him.

He looked at it and smiled. "Everything appears to be in order. Ari will escort you back to your room."

I almost rolled my eyes at that. 'Room'. As though my cell were a place you could live in as a home.

I barely had time to ponder what had just happened when the door behind me pushed open and I was led, rather roughly, back to the cell corridors. When my steel door finally shut with an echoing bang, I lay down on my back, facing the opposite wall. From this angle I could see the grey clouds through my window, and I watched as a tiny bird flew past.

Freedom. I could hardly imagine what the word meant, let alone what I'd actually do if I had it. The Institute had provided its patients with a few textbooks, to ' _improve mental wellbeing_ ' as Dr Ass liked to call it, so I knew that in the world outside you could do almost anything. I wondered what it would be like to touch the ocean, or hike a mountain. I wondered what it felt like to have a mother, or to be one, and most of all I wondered what it would feel like to stand beneath the sky, with no walls or boundaries to keep you in.

I yawned. It couldn't be past midmorning, but in my cell, with only the foggy light filtering through the window, it was easy to lose track of time.

I decided to take a quick nap. Sleeping was the best pass-time, I'd discovered, and sometimes it left me with the most beautiful dreams. I scooted over to my mattress and tucked my head into the crook of my arm, surrendering myself to a world of oceans and blue skies and impossible imaginings.

-:-

I almost jumped out of my skin when I was woken to the _*beep beep beep_ * sound. Scuttling into a sitting position I watched in terror as my steel door swung inwards. What were they going to do to me? I thought that I wasn't going to be taken to the laboratory today!

A strange rattling sound, like chains clinking, came from the hall. Was that some torture device? Was I in trouble? Was I about to be punished for something I didn't know I'd done? I racked my brain for anything rebellious that I'd done recently, but came up blank.

Ari and another buff patrol guard came in, carrying something long and beige between them. When they threw down a second moth-eaten mattress against the opposite wall to mine, confusion swept through me. What was going on? Was my cell being refurnished? Surely not, for they wouldn't replace a dirty old mattress with a dirty new mattress.

Ari saw the lack of comprehension on my face and grinned a nasty smirk. "Don't worry sweetheart," he said, "You're in for a real treat!" I wanted to punch the smirk off his face, but I was still rooted to the spot on my bed.

Then I heard the rattling sound again and snapped my head back to the door. A tall boy with black hair and a grey suit just like mine was being shoved inside by two more patrol guards. His hands and feet were chained and were what was making the rattling sound, also causing him to walk funny.

I didn't move, hardly understanding what was happening. The boy scanned the room, taking in the small window, the freshly cleaned chamber pot, and then finally landing on me. I watched as he took in my appearance, his eyes widening in what I assumed to be shock, and then scowling at the guards shoving him.

"There must be some mistake," he said in a low, rumbling voice.

Ari seemed to be bouncing on the balls of his feet in glee. "Let's have some introductions, shall we?" he said. This entire event was frightening me, and I had a feeling that things were only going to get worse. _What was going on?_

"Nick," continued Ari, addressing the guy before me, "Meet Maximum. Maxie," he said, now looking at me with barely concealed mirth, "Meet Nick, your new cellmate.

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 **So once again, thanks for reading! I hope you liked it and would love for you to comment your opinions on it or where you think the story should go - I love inspiration x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you thank you thank you to everyone following and reviewing this story!**

 **To Cassy M, thank you for the lovely review, and to pancakes-for-you, also! Your review made me smile x In response to the whole Fang/Nick thing, I know what you mean, I hate writing him as Nick, but don't worry! It's not for long! Also thank you for your suggestion with the number thing, I actually went back and edited some stuff!**

 **Without further ado - here's chapter 2!**

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Chapter 2: Orphic

I froze. No.

This couldn't be happening. I was to have a cellmate. A _boy_ cellmate! No. I couldn't do this! What did they want from me? Was this a punishment? Was this my 'new purpose'? A scratchy feeling formed at the back of my throat and I felt my breathing grow shallow.

The guards around us all shared smug grins, and then one knelt down and unlocked the chain at Nick's feet. Another raised a gun to his chest and said "Don't try anything, punk," as Nick's hands too, were released with a clicking sound.

It was actually, truly happening then. I was to have no more privacy. My experiment hours in the lab were reduced at the expense of my dignity. I couldn't look at anyone anymore. This was all too much. I stared out the window, noticing that the clouds had darkened drastically and that it was probably evening.

When would they leave? I wished I could be alone again, even though from now on that would never happen. I wished that things would go back to the way that they were, that this whole day had just been one impossible dream. I fought down the part of me that jumped at the idea of company. Of a friend. Of an actual person who I could actually talk to.

I glanced back and found myself trapped in two dark, fathomless eyes. I had to catch my breath as Nick watched me, emotions swirling like whirlpools in his black orbs. Guilt? Humiliation? I couldn't tell. Other than his eyes his face was as blank as a brick.

The guards seemed to be getting restless – their entertainment was over.

"Right, well, this has been fun," said Ari. "I suggest that the two of you…play nice; you're gonna be spending a lot of time together!" He gave a gruff howl of laughter and then marched out the door, followed closely by the other three guards.

When the last one left and the door was locked behind them, my cell – wait, no… _our_ cell – became completely still, the only sound being our uneven breathing. It was the first time in my entire life that that door had shut and I wasn't left feeling alone. Now solitude was what I craved, but Nick's form stayed there, tall and dark and so _alive_.

Suddenly the burning feeling in the back of my throat became too much, and I turned my back to him as silent tears pooled out of my eyes. It wasn't fair, I thought, as I heard a sigh from somewhere behind me. Then footsteps receding and the sound of a body sinking down onto the other mattress.

I turned ever so slightly and watched as he nestled himself down, facing the other wall. In the fading light it was hard to make out, but soon his body gradually began to rise and fall in the rhythm of sleep. It wasn't fair on either of us. Of course I still couldn't trust him, no matter how equally difficult this was going to be for both of us. He was bigger than me, stronger than me. I watched his broad shoulders. _Much_ stronger than me. Then I blushed and followed his example, laying down and allowing sleep to consume me.

-:-

A square patch of light on the wall woke me up the next morning. The hazy fog of last-night's dreams clouded my mind, and for a moment I had to catch my bearings. Then memories crashed down on me and I turned onto my side, trying to determine if Nick was still asleep on his mattress.

He wasn't. He was not asleep and definitely not on his mattress.

No, he was crouching about three feet away from me.

I let out a high-pitched shriek and scrambled into a sitting position, cocooning myself in the threadbare blanket. "What are you doing?!" I asked shrilly.

Nick didn't reply, just continued to watch me. I could hardly breathe.

After what felt like a decade he decided to speak. "Name's Maxine, right?"

My fright changed into annoyance. "No."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then what must I call you?"

I glared at him and then turned to look out the window. "Nothing."

It was his turn to feel irritated. "Fine, ' _Nothing_.' You don't have to be so scared of me, you know. I'm not like them and I'm not going to hurt you."

I felt my throat constrict and struggled to get my breath out. He was lying, I knew it. Everyone in this damned building was a liar, bottling up the truth so that they wouldn't be drowned in it. Everyone was fending for themselves. There was no sacrifice, no kindness, just survival of the fittest.

I was pulled away from my thoughts when something small drifted towards the window. On instinct I jumped up, startling Nick in the process and then running to get a better view. I pressed my face into the glass and stared at the small brown thing on the outdoor windowsill. It was a leaf. Dry and lifeless, pushed against the bottom of the glass by the wind. Trapped.

I stroked the glass on my side, trying to comfort it. I knew what it felt like, to be ripped away from the world and then left, fragile and alone.

A small rustling alerted me to Nick's presence behind me. I dropped back onto the balls of my feet and turned to see him watching me closely.

"How long you been here?" he asked.

"Do you ever speak in proper sentences?" I avoided his question.

His lips twitched. "Guess not." When he saw that I wasn't going to be replying anytime soon he nodded to the window. "My last cell didn't have one."

Figuring he was talking about the window and not the leaf, I felt pity flow through me. I'd had days when I'd almost lost all my will, and the small image of freedom had grounded me. Without that window of hope I didn't know how I'd ever have been able to get through this life. Suddenly I wondered how long _he'd_ been here. Hopefully not since birth, like me.

"Do you want to have a look?" I asked, stepping back a bit to give him room.

He observed me wearily before standing up. "Sure."

He came closer and suddenly I was regretting giving the offer. He walked slowly, almost like a predator trying not to scare away its prey. Soon he was standing less than a few feet from me and I was fighting my flight instinct and the urge to take a step back.

He towered above me, and I realised he was tall enough to actually have to bend to see through the window. The sky was still cloudy but it was light outside, probably around ten in the morning. I'd slept in.

I admired him from this angle. He had thick, long eyelashes that any girl would die for, high cheekbones and an olive skin tone that he must have been born with, for there wasn't any sunlight in the Institute. He was very attractive, and also much easier to observe without his black eyes bearing into my soul. Just then he turned and I was once again sucked into two black holes. I felt blood rush up to my cheeks.

"It's pretty, isn't it," I managed to squeak out.

He looked at me with such an intense gaze that I thought I would melt. "Very."

Something about the way he said it made me blush and look everywhere but his face. I was saved from any more awkwardness when a single ping announced breakfast. I realised that I was starving, even more so than usual. It was only then that I realised I must have missed dinner last night in all the commotion.

We both glanced over to the door and Nick went to collect the trays. We ate in silence, neither of us voicing how disgusting the brown sludge was.

"So," he said, when we'd pushed the trays back through the slot. "How long have you been here?"

Don't trust him. Don't trust him. Don't trust him. "My whole life."

I stared at my hands in my lap. We were both seated cross-legged on the floor, and I didn't risk looking up into his eyes. Here comes the judgement, the pity.

"Me too," he said.

I snapped my eyes up to his. I couldn't read his emotions at all, but I knew, from the tiny, almost undetectable hitch in his voice, that he wasn't lying.

"It sucks, huh?" I said in a whisper, hardly able to believe that someone else might know what it felt like to be trapped here, cold and alone, for an eternity.

He grimaced. "Yeah, you said it." A small silence grew between us and I wondered what I was supposed to do now. "You know," he carried on, "Sometimes I thought about escaping. I liked to imagine that one day I'd end up on some beautiful island, like the one in those textbooks they force us to read." I caught his eye, knowing exactly the book he was referring to – one on geology; page 267. I'd also dreamt about that island, with the beautiful forests and the jumping dolphins and the quiet, free serenity that it promised. "But the thing is, I've been here for so long, that sometimes I don't think I'll ever get out."

His words hit home. I found the scratchy feeling pulling at my throat again and I tried not to let my eyes show it. I knew exactly how he felt. _Focus_. Focus on something that will ground you, Max, I thought. Anger. Anger would do.

"So did I," I said. "Think about escaping, I mean. I used to have this plan, where, when they took me into the lab, I would grab one of the sedative-needles and…and knock out the white-coat holding me. Then I'd use it to break the binding ropes, and then – and then I'd run."

Nick watched me closely. "Did you ever do it?" he asked.

 _Did I ever do it?_ Was he being serious? "No! Of course not. It wouldn't work. I'm too weak, and something would go wrong, and then they'd hurt me." I broke off. I imagined Ari, laughing as he beat me up. Of the electric collar they would inevitably bring. I shivered and rubbed my arms, feeling tears prickle at my eyes.

Nick stared at me, a thousand emotions hidden in his. "What's your real name?" he asked.

His question was like a fresh hit of reality and I could feel myself closing up; a tortoise, withdrawing into her shell. Nick wasn't allowed to know me. If he did, he'd just use my heart against me, and I'd rather he carried on calling me Maxine than have to deal with any more pain.

"I think I'm going to take a nap," I said impassively. I climbed onto my mattress and rolled onto my side. Sleep didn't come easy. I couldn't stop the flashbacks that pushed their way in front of my eyelids, but soon it exhausted me and I fell into a restless slumber, Nick's eyes burning holes into my back.

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 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry about how long it's taken me to put this post up, but don't worry! I haven't abandoned this story. To all my treasures who are following and favouriting and reviewing this fic, thank you so much, I lurv you!**

 **To LittlePineCone, I guess Fang just forgot what Ari called her, but yes! Please be picky! I know I'm not a perfect writer, and am eager to improve with constructive criticism :) Thank you kindly for the sweet reviews also from pancakes-for-you, EndlessGalaxies97 and Lauren, and everyone else who made me smile!**

 **Disclaimer: blah blah blah... James Patterson... blah blah blah**

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Chapter 3: Advesperascit

I was lying on something cold and hard. Wriggling slightly, I realised that my wrists had been bound to a metal stretcher, along with my feet, and that I could barely move. A white light was swaying directly above me, blinding my eyes and making me see bright shapes when I closed them. I listened to the sounds echoing in what I knew was one of the experimenting labs. A funny drilling noise came from the back of the room, and someone was pleading helplessly; probably a patient like me. Other people were speaking quietly, giving orders and making casual conversation. White-coats. No one else could dissect someone's body while chatting about the weather.

I opened my eyes, turning my head so that the harsh light wouldn't be in my direct line of vision. I came face-to-face with a boy, also strapped down on a body-long table, just a few feet away from me. "H…Hello," he croaked when he saw my attention was on him.

I stared into his blue blue eyes, and felt mine widen. His irises reminded me of the sky through my window when the weather was rarely cloudless. I scanned the rest of him, taking in his lanky body, the freckles tiptoeing across his face, and his reddish hair that looked sickly in the laboratory light. I looked back at his eyes, which were watching me expectantly.

He was waiting for a response. "Hello," I returned, my voice sounding even worse than his. I hadn't spoken to anyone in weeks.

"Name's Iggy."

I watched him for a moment. What an unusual name. But I supposed mine was too. We'd had to choose names for ourselves when we were children; all the Institute had given us were numbers. "Max," I said.

Iggy nodded, something like a very forced smile curling at his cheeks. "This is my second time in this room."

I stared at him. _Second time_. Apparently his name wasn't due to an imprisoned childhood. He was expecting pity, I could see it in his eyes. Every experience with the white-coats was terrible, enough to traumatise someone for life. But the only pity I felt was for myself. He had come here twice, while I had been here every week since birth. I would have lost count of the number of times I'd been tested in this lab if it were not for the tallies I made on my wall. But I, on the other hand, did not want pity.

"Mine too."

I wondered why I lied in that moment. I could have told him the truth; it wouldn't have made me look bad. But lying was the only way to survive in the institute. No one ever told the truth around here. You just had to pick the lie that you liked the most.

Iggy seemed to like mine. "Do you think they'll let us leave soon? My mom will come for me, I know it. Won't rest till she finds me."

Something I had never truly felt before stirred in my belly. Envy. He had lived a normal life before this. I pushed away the thought that made me feel hollow inside. "How did you end up here?" I asked, genuinely curious.

I'd thought that everyone here was like me; born into hell without a judgement day. Yet Iggy said that he was new.

"I got drunk a few weeks ago," he answered. "You know how it can be." I didn't, but I let him continue. "I don't remember all the details, but one moment I was chugging beers on the beach, and the next I was in the West-Coast Jail building. Then these two scientist-guys appeared, said they were there to bail 'Ignatius Zephyr'." Iggy shivered on his metallic table. "I was cool with it, relieved even. My mom wouldn't find out what I'd been up to that night. But then they were escorting me out, and shoving me into a car, and just when I started to realise something was wrong, they injected me with some drug, and bam. I ended up here."

He stopped, seemingly caught up in the memories, but then looked at me from his horizontal position. His eyes were glistening, and for the first time I felt real pity for this boy – all scared and alone and confused, as I'd once been. As I still was. "And you?" he asked. "Why are you here?"

I was saved from having to lie again when a white-coat approached us. I clamped up in fear. What were they going to do to me today?

But the white-coat wasn't there for me. I watched as the man, probably in his forties, pulled a cart of medical instruments up to Iggy's bed. Iggy's eyes went wide, and I cringed when he started whimpering. "Please…please don't. Are you going to hurt me again?"

I could hear the terror in his voice, terror that caused bones to turn mellow and blood to ice. I knew that terror well.

The white-coat ignored him, filling a syringe with a silvery liquid.

I told myself to turn away. I shouted at myself to stop watching when the screaming started, but my body had frozen in shock. I could feel Iggy's agony, his desperation, as it radiated off him in cries of pain and writhing movements. But his head was strapped down. It was held still so that the white-coat could prod and poke at Iggy's eyes, eyes that were held open as they bled and cried. Soon the sobbing and moans that wrecked the room were doubled, and I realised that I had joined Iggy in his symphony of tortured calls.

A second white-coat paced towards me, backhanding my cheek when he reached me to shut me up. I bit down on my tongue to stifle my crying, but Iggy's continued, haunting me as I pleaded with no one to hear. "Let him go! Please."

"Keep quiet," said the white-coat, glaring at me with eyes that promised a malice that would be acted on.

"No!" I moaned. "He doesn't deserve this! Please just stop whatever you're doing."

The white-coat watched me, and I foolishly took his silence as him deliberating. But stopping Iggy's torture was not what he'd been thinking about. Rather, he was deciding how to start mine.

It began with the electric collar, which I'd had experience with in the past. Soon I forgot all about Iggy, about our conversation, my envy, and every single other thought I'd ever had, as the pain consumed me. It was too much for a sane person to handle, but it was not enough for the white-coat.

Hallucination-drugs ensued, bedraggling my mind with visions of night time terrors; the type that keep you frozen to your bed in fear, and of enough personal phobias to pull me away from whatever lifeline I'd been clinging to.

I could not hold on anymore, could not shed another tear. I succumbed to the torture that I knew would leave me with nothing but nightmares for years.

-:-

I woke up to the sound of a scream. Bolting upright, I realised that my body was coated in a cold sweat. My breathing came out shallow as I stared around my cell for the origin of the sound. Nick was kneeling about three feet away from me again, and when I saw his face I bit back on asking whether this was going to be a regular thing.

His forehead was scrunched in a frown and his eyes were swimming with worry as he looked at me. He appeared as though he wanted to reach out and comfort me, and I knew at once that it was me who'd screamed.

I tried to calm my rugged breathing and moved so that my back was against the wall. My mind was still working on overdrive, replaying harsh words and vivid images.

"Are you okay?" asked Nick, genuinely concerned.

I opened my mouth to croak out a yes but no sound came out.

 _It was just a nightmare just a nightmare just a nightmare_ I told myself. But it wasn't. It was a memory. My eyes were stinging and I wished that Nick would stop looking at me. Shame coursed through me and I felt some of the fear leak out my eyes.

Nick seemed to make his mind up about something and before I could make any protests he'd stood and then sat down right next to me, the hard mattress rising on my side because of his weight.

I wanted to hide. I wanted to run away. _I wanted him to protect me_.

He did. Strong arms came around me and pulled me into his side, my head falling just below his chin. I felt my body tense up and then a sob that I couldn't control came out. Suddenly I was crying, crying harder than I'd ever done so in my life as Nick whispered calming words above me.

He pulled me closer and I leant further into his body heat. My frozen body was melting, thawing. No one had ever held me like this. It was such a good feeling, this contact, this idea that not everyone in the world was trying to hurt me.

I stayed like that in Nick's arms, clutching onto his now tear-soaked shirt, until my whimpers died down to small sniffles. Suddenly I realised where I was and how bad I must look to Nick. "I'm sorry," I said, making to move. He held me tighter, not letting me go. I leaned back a bit so that I could look into his black eyes. He was so close, and I could feel a blush rising to my cheeks.

His hair was long, curling on the back of his neck and falling loosely over his eyes. I could still see them though. The irises were so dark that it was hard to tell where they ended and where his pupils began. I wanted to brush away his fringe so I could see his beautiful eyelashes, but then I went redder at the thought.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "It's not your fault, and you don't deserve the things they've done to you."

I looked down; none of it mattered. They would keep on doing those things whether I deserved them or not. I tried not to cry again. Why was he being so nice? I didn't understand anything anymore.

"Max," I said. "My name's Max."

Nick softened his grip and when he spoke I could hear a small smile in his voice. "I like it. It suits you. You can call me Fang if you want."

"Okay Fang."

I allowed my tense muscles to relax and listened to the steady beating of his heart. We stayed like that, the two of us clinging desperately to each other and some idea of hope, however vague and false it was.

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 **Once again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Let me know what you think! Also guys, my motivation is dying fast here. Please, if you have any ideas for where this story could go (was originally going for a breeding-mates kind of vibe, but I don't know), please share your valued opinions with me. Much love x**


	4. Chapter 4

**First of all, I am so sooo sorry about how long it's taken me to knuckle back down to this story. Here's a super long chapter (for my standards at least), that I hope will help convince you to forgive me.**

 **Sophiecampbellbower, Flowersocks2137, and EndlessGalaxies97, thank you for your long and funny and inspirational reviews, you guys are awesome xx**

 **Also, I didn't think it was possible, but I've decided to incorporate almost every single idea that was posed in reviews, so wow, thanks guys! To Littlepnacakes & ffjfj especially, thank you so so much. I have prewritten the chapter where your ideas are now going to be fully included in this story. I love it. **

**Disclaimer: James Patterson holds all rights to this story.**

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Matutine 

I blinked my eyes open lazily. A tight crick and formed in the back of my neck, and I realised that I'd fallen asleep in a sitting position. I rolled my shoulders, trying to get a comfier posture, but found I was trapped. Something was above my head, holding me down. Two strong clamps had me fixed in place. I was about to start panicking when I remembered where I was.

A chin. Arms. A warm chest that was rising and falling slowly. _Fang_.

I wondered if he was awake and if he could feel my heart suddenly start beating very fast. My eyes darted around. How could I get away? This… _closeness_ , which might have been comforting before, now had the opposite effect. I grimaced as I remembered my embarrassing break-down. It had been just over a day and I was already throwing myself into the arms of a stranger. How could I have just forgotten myself; let my guard down so easily?

I ignored the tiny voice in my head that said that Fang wasn't really a stranger. That he was kind and that I didn't need to be so guarded when he himself could guard and protect me.

My eyes widened at the thought. _What is going on with you?_ I wanted to yell to myself. A few gentle words from someone I barely knew, and I was caving like a puddle of mush. I shook my head internally. My behaviour was so _wrong_ right now.

I gingerly tried to pry his left arm from around my waist, but it didn't want to budge. I let out a huff. Putting all my strength into the effort and using Fang's torso for support, his strong arm finally released me, and I wanted to grin in triumph, before it moved to grab the next closest thing.

My leg.

I blushed furiously. This, I was sure, was definitely wrong.

Suddenly I felt Fang's breathing hitch, and I froze. I didn't dare look up, but the hand on my thigh moved away quickly, and my mind thankfully began to clear again.

I heard a yawn from above, and I tilted my head up to meet two black eyes, still blinking in drowsiness, but watching me intently. They were so close, and I thought that at any moment I would be completely consumed by them.

I felt the other arm encircling my waist disappear, and watched as he ran the hand through his dark hair, making it spike up in odd directions. I itched to do the same.

This time I did jump away, bouncing off the mattress like a spring that had been wound up for too long. I was sure my cheeks were red, and I looked anywhere but at Fang's face, which was watching mine in amusement.

His clothes were all ruffled from where I'd been sleeping on them, and…was that? Oh please no. A tiny patch of what I could only assume was drool darkened his overalls, but Fang didn't seem to notice it.

I kneaded my palms against my eyes.

 _Never again, Max_ , I told myself. I'd fallen asleep in the den of a lion, and worse still was the fact that I wasn't even sure whether the lion was Fang, or my own treacherous feelings.

The boy before me smirked, watching the inner torment openly splayed on face. "Morning Max."

I was fairly certain that it wasn't morning, and a glance at the window proved me right. The sky outside was black, with a hazy shimmer of stars that hinted it must have been some time around midnight.

Fang followed my line of sight and corrected himself. "Evening, I mean."

I tried to say something, but had to clear my throat before an intelligible sentence came out. "We probably shouldn't mess up our sleeping patterns like this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well…" I struggled for the right words. "We might miss breakfast and dinner time…and shower-hour."

"Heavens forbid," said Fang, and I had a feeling he was being sarcastic, something I liked to be when talking to Ari.

"What?" I asked. "You don't shower?"

"Of course I do; they'd punish us if we didn't. It's just…frustrating."

I vaguely understood what he was getting at. All these set rules and regulations, lulling us into a mindless routine so that we might be distracted from our _own_ mindless, lab-rat existences, was, indeed, 'frustrating'.

Would they even know it if I were to skip a shower? It wasn't as though there were cameras in the cell. _Hopefully_.

I was ripped from my musings by one sudden, horrific revelation.

Shower-hour. Oh God.

I lurched around on my heel, staring up at the ceiling-corner where a shower-head had been installed – directly above the drain and a slightly-sloping floor (classy, right?).

One shower-head. One room.

No walls. No curtains.

No privacy. No dignity.

My lungs suddenly felt as though they couldn't take in enough oxygen.

Forget the possibility of hidden cameras – I was now expected to share a shower with a _boy_? No way. I turned to watch as Fang got up languidly from my bed. Should I ask him for a solution? My face flamed up. Definitely not. Fang seemed nice, but there was also something darkly playful in him, giving me the impression that he would probably turn the whole situation into a joke.

I couldn't trust him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But there was _certainly_ no way that I was going to shower anywhere near him. Oh god oh god oh god what was I supposed to _do_?

Oblivious to my internal panic, Fang smoothed down his grey prison suit and then walked over to me.

I shoved aside my distracting thoughts, mentally resigning myself to never showering again, and told myself to relax. To think rationally. Logically.

The first thing to be done, _logically_ , was to move Fang's mattress, which had carelessly been placed to cover the shower's drain and would most likely be soaked in a couple of hours' time.

"We should move your bed," I said, my voice sounding annoyingly shaky.

Fang scanned around it and then recognised the shower set-up. "Right. You take this end, and I'll get that one?"

We were in the middle of hoisting it up when I realised the sticky situation I'd placed myself in. The shower took up this corner of the cell. The chamber pot, another. Nothing could block the door of course, which left…

Fang smirked at me from his end of the mattress. I waited for the crude comment, but he didn't say anything as he nudged us towards my own bedding. We ended up placing the length of moth-eaten foam against the wall with the window, making an L-shape with mine.

He chucked his pillow so that it was right next to my own. I scrunched up my eyes. In a few minutes everything – mindless routine as it may have been – had come crashing down: my sleeping space had been invaded, my cell was no longer 'mine', and showering and hygiene were no longer options. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to seethe and rant or break down sobbing.

 _No Max_ , I said to myself. _Neither is an option_.

When I opened my eyes Fang had moved to stand right in front of me, and I felt my nerves splutter.

"We done?" he asked. I had a feeling that he'd picked up on the Shower Tragedy, which was what I'd decided to call my new dilemma, but was avoiding the subject.

I nodded jerkily, still contemplating how I could possibly get myself out of this mess.

"Good." Fang gave me a lopsided grin, and just like that I felt as though I would melt back into my previous mush-puddle. It was amazing how the smallest display of his usually hidden emotions could send me reeling, making me forget anything and everything of concern all at once.

I reminded myself that Fang was gentle – chivalrous, even. He wasn't rude like Ari, or perverted like that Dylan-twerp I'd met a few years back. He would help me. We would make a plan together.

"Earth to Max," I heard.

I shook my head. "Pardon?"

Fang twitched his lips. "I said, what are you thinking about? You look kind of as though you're about to faint."

"Sorry. Just …" _Stressing about my inevitable doom. Praying for a miracle. Trying to accept our fates as shower-voyeurs._

"Fantasizing about me?"

I scowled at him. So much for chivalrous.

Before I could muster an appropriate comeback for his sexist pig-headedness, Fang turned around and presented me with a view of his back. "Give me a hand, will you?" he asked.

"What?"

He turned his head and caught my eye, a glint in his. "With the zipper."

I stared at him dumbly. "What?" I said again.

"C'mon Max, I just want to do my workout routine, and I hate it when this thing gets all sweaty." He gestured to his baggy grey overalls.

"Oh."

Fang turned back to the wall, and I eyed the zip running from his neck to the small of his back. Okay, I could do this. It wasn't going to bite me or anything.

I reached up and carefully slid down the zipper, noticing that its pathway did actually look very much like a long line of teeth.

I tried to avert my eyes when Fang's span of olive skin was revealed, but they had their own will and tried to take in every detail of his back. Jagged edges of scars criss-crossed all the way down, and I winced, imagining the pain of whiplashes and shock-batons.

But no. Not really _pain_. I was reminded of something I'd overheard once, by – was it a white-coat? No, that couldn't be it. The memory was so vague I wondered if it was not a memory at all, but a dream, perhaps, and yet the words had stuck with me forever. _Scars do not symbolise pain itself, but rather represent the strength and healing that it takes to_ overcome _pain._

I realised that my fingers had been inching upwards, drawn to one particularly nasty cut that they were now about a hairsbreadth away from touching. I saw Fang's muscles shift ever so slightly as he made to turn, and I snatched my hand away.

He faced me again and then, before I could even react to what he was doing, peeled the suit off his arms and let it hang limply at his waist. I told myself to keep looking at his face, but I almost unconsciously glanced down. And wow. He was…he was just wow. Dark muscles rippled along his skin, gorgeously ending in a V-shape that…hm.

Work-outs were certainly working out for him.

My face flamed up and I became suddenly fascinated by the grey slip-ons on my feet.

I let out an inaudible sigh of relief when Fang moved away, but I could hear the amusement in his voice when he spoke again. "You should join me, you know. We need exercise to stay fit."

Um, hell no. My overalls were not going to be coming off any time soon. Subconsciously I tugged at the baggy fabric around my middle.

Fang caught the action and grinned up at me. By now he'd moved into a plank formation. "You don't have to take it off just because I did."

I flushed.

"Unless you want to, of course."

I gaped down at him indignantly. "It has nothing to do with – with _that_. I just don't see the point in staying 'fit' and, and sweating all topless-like for no reason!"

I chastised myself for the high-pitch of my voice, praying that Fang hadn't noticed.

He had.

He looked up at me smugly, and I could see him waiting for when I would snap. "If I didn't know any better, Max, I'd say that you're scared of 'sweating all topless-like' with me."

 _Okay, who does this boy think he is?_

I knew that he was goading me, but I couldn't help shoving my sleeves up to my elbows. "Fine. We'll play it your way."

Rather than look defeated by my hopefully-intimidating façade, Fang practically lit up – kind of like his usual blank slate, but a bit more shimmery.

It bothered me slightly that we'd known each other for barely a day and I was already learning to recognise his subtle emotions, but not as much as his newfound enthusiasm did. If he thought he'd won, well ha! He had another thing coming.

Determined to prove a point now, I dropped with an irritated huff a few feet away from him and copied his position.

"Hold for ten," said Fang.

Ten? As in ten seconds? _Puh-lease_. Didn't people do this for minutes usually?

But sure enough, after only seven seconds my core muscles were burning up and aching for reprieve.

"3…2…1, okay break."

I gasped and dropped unceremoniously onto my stomach.

Fang just rolled his eyes. "Don't get too comfortable, Max. Push-ups now."

Push-ups? Seriously?

I felt like I was dead already.

I stayed panting heavily for a moment as Fang started. I took a second to watch the muscle chords along his body tighten with his efforts. Sweat gleamed across his back and over his strong arms, and inexplicably, I suddenly wanted to _touch_ him. I instantly went red and looked away. _Max!_ I thought to myself. _Get it together!_

Deciding that I'd been relaxing for too long, I lay down on my stomach to get into position, but further away from Fang this time. _No more distractions_ , I told myself as I pushed up off the ground, then shot him a furtive glance from out the corner of my eye. He met my gaze mid-lift, and I faltered awkwardly as I tried to regain my focus.

Ignoring Fang, my seemingly-ultimate distraction, was easier said than done.

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